


and I stained with sin

by lunavagant



Category: Devilman (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Satan just really needs a hug I think, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:00:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27100843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunavagant/pseuds/lunavagant
Summary: Akira doesn't recoil from him. He doesn't strike him, either. He slowly sinks to his knees and cradles Satan's face in his hands."You're crying," he says, quiet like a secret into the air between them.
Relationships: Asuka Ryo | Satan/Fudo Akira
Comments: 20
Kudos: 269





	and I stained with sin

He's already blind when it comes — eyes clouded and brimming with tears, the world nothing but a hollow, twinkling blur. 

Light, blazing, burning, falling all around him in beams, scalding on his cold skin and trembling hands, the wetness on his cheeks. 

Satan curls into himself, into the ruined body beside him. He's not wounded, knows he isn't even though he can't see, and still it feels like he's been flayed open. 

He feels— he _feels_. It hurts. 

He wants to kiss Akira's lips, to quell the desperate, aching thing in his chest that begs to be soothed and made whole, that craves the warmth of pleasure and forgiveness; but it seems like too great a sin, now, even for him.

How fitting, that not even his last thought could be pure.

The light keeps raining down. 

Time folds into itself.

— 

All his life, his dreams have been strange.

Some are too bright, too real, the edges of them sharp like jagged glass. Others are tainted with lurid light, full of writhing shapes and thick, dark blood. They all feel dangerous. Not like dreams any person should have. 

Sometimes, he dreams about Akira. 

He’s different; stronger. He’ll lounge at Ryo in wordless fury, or he won’t look at him at all, but he never, ever speaks. Not even when Ryo begs him. 

Somehow, Ryo knows that he deserves it.

He dreams about other things, too, of Akira’s smile and Akira’s hands on his neck, not squeezing but holding him there, gently, like he’s something precious.

He dreams about Akira’s hands a lot, pulling him close, touching him in places he shouldn’t want, in ways that make him shiver with impossible warmth. Ryo pleads for him not to stop, for the dream not to end, but it always does.

Those are the only dreams that don’t feel like memories. 

It hurts to wake up.

— 

Falling is his ruin and his redemption. 

In the life where he gets it right, Satan stumbles and falls to his knees in front of Akira, wings stretched out behind him, his body exposed. 

He has never flinched at the thought of his own nakedness before — not in any of the lives he remembers — but then again, he has never bared himself quite like this. 

He stares down at his pale limbs, and for the first time in his immortal life doubts his beauty in the eyes of the man before him. 

Akira doesn't recoil from him. He doesn't strike him, either. 

He slowly sinks to his knees and cradles Satan's face in his hands.

"You're crying," he says, quiet like a secret into the air between them. 

A small, mirthless laugh finds its way past Satan's lips. "You would be surprised," he says. Everything is so warm, Akira's hands and his breath and the steady beat of his heart. 

Alive, blissfully alive. 

"I'm going to lose you," Satan tells him, blinking the fog out of his eyes. 

The memories almost overwhelm him — they hang in front of him, vivid and horrifying, memories of rejection and torn flesh, of broken bodies and a despair so deep it threatens to choke him.

"I don't want to be alone anymore."

It's selfish, he knows he's selfish, he's cruel and twisted and rotten to his core, and he deserves the punishment that comes with his own actions, lifetime upon lifetime of blood on his hands.

He knows, and yet the thought scares him so much he wants to throw himself to the ground at Akira's feet and beg him not to leave him. 

There's nothing he wants to change more, and he cannot seem to change this, no matter what he does.

 _I don't want to be without you,_ he thinks, _I can't bear it, please,_ please, _Akira_.

In front of him, Akira's eyes are soft. "I don't think not wanting to be alone is wrong," he says. "I think it's human. Sometimes, though, humans need to ask for what we want." 

"Ask," Satan repeats, voice hollow. 

Akira nods. "Yeah. Like you're doing now, even though you haven't really said it yet." 

He's so close, so close to him like this, he could almost reach out and touch— 

"In all those other lives, do you ever tell me?"

Satan looks at him, uncomprehending. The warmth of Akira's hands on his face is the only thing he's aware of.

"That you love me like this," Akira says, like it's the simplest truth in the world. "That I am human, and that you love me for it." 

The fondness in his eyes is almost too much to bear. No being could be more undeserving of it. 

Love.

Can it really be that easy?

Can you admit to something that doesn't exist?

And yet he has told Akira, time and time again, sobbing into the hollow of his throat as the world around them burned with all the brightness of God's might. 

"Not when you could hear me."

One of Akira's hands is buried in his hair now, the other still resting on his cheek. 

"I can hear you now, Ryo," Akira tells him softly. 

When he touches his lips to Akira’s, something inside him breaks in pain and relief all at once. 

It wrenches a sound from somewhere deep in his chest, and Akira surges forward, wrapping his arm around Ryo's waist and hauling him in until he's straddling Akira's legs, until they're touching everywhere, Akira's warm hand pressing down on the small of his back.

He shudders when Akira coaxes his mouth open to kiss him deeper, his hips shifting of their own accord. 

It feels like being stabbed through the gut; like hot wax being poured down his spine.

It feels like falling, if Akira had been there to hold him all the way down. 

Satan waits for punishment, for the light to come and burn away the evidence of his sin, the weakness of his flesh. 

God's love is a pure, perfect thing — and surely what Satan feels, this urgent, helpless wish to press himself so close he crawls under Akira's skin, the fierce hope that Akira feels the same way, cannot be it. 

It cannot be, because perfection is not a thing of the world.

"I love you," he says anyway, blasphemous into the heat of Akira's mouth, as Akira kisses him and kisses him.

Ryo clings to him desperately.

God's light does not come.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me tell you, the temptation to use a _Paradise Lost_ quote for a title there was really strong. Please appreciate my sacrifice.


End file.
